For a long moment, Katherine remained rigid in her seat, her chin held high and her gaze fixed forward as though the words meant nothing to her. Slowly, she deflated, her shoulders and head drooping as she drew her hands into a tight ball in her lap. Rosanna reached over and placed her own atop it, squeezing her sister, but Katherine pulled free and turned her knees away (or as much as she could whilst sitting on the small bench).
Rosanna drew back her hand with a sigh and wished Prudence were there. She had managed the entire family with such ease, and now it was left to Rosanna. Despite the carriage being open, the air felt heavy, and as much as she longed for something to say to ease the tension, her mind drew a blank.
Thankfully, the sight of blankets and canopies in the distance shifted the attention to their arrival. Katherine remained turned away whilst Mama and Francis waved at the guests as Papa pulled up to where the grooms and stableboys awaited to take care of the horses and vehicles.
Before anyone could make a move, Katherine hopped down and strode away, her gaze fixed on the ground at her feet. Rosanna stared after her, wishing she knew what to do to aid her, but everything she tried only made things worse.
“Come, dear!” called Mama, and Rosanna turned her attention back to the picnic and the footman with his hand held up to aid her descent. Taking hold of it, she lowered herself from the phaeton. Mama was there in a flash, straightening Rosanna’s pelisse and bonnet.
“Enough, Mama,” said Rosanna, batting away the lady’s hands.
“There is no such thing as ‘enough’ until you and Mr. Tate are engaged,” she said, brushing a bit of lint from Rosanna’s sleeve.
How many times had Mama said such a thing over the past sennight? Too many to count, and the pressure in Rosanna’s chest doubled as the lady’s eyes brightened. As much as Rosanna preferred to let nature take its course, the constant hounding about Mr. Tate was growing more troublesome.
“That will never happen, Mama,” she said, forcing the words out. “I shan’t marry for money—no matter what you and Papa say.”
Though she stood a few feet away, Francis stiffened at that, slanting her sister a wide-eyed look before hurrying after the rest of the family, leaving mother and daughter alone.
Mama smirked. “Ah, yes. You will marry for love and end up a pauper like your sister.”
Rosanna scowled. “Prudence isn’t a pauper, and you were quite keen for her to marry Parker, so you needn’t speak of their marriage as though it is something wretched.”
“Of course I was keen. Prudence had no other prospects, and without a carriage or servants, she is little more than a pauper, so I stand by my statement. You, on the other hand, have a much brighter future ahead of you,” she said, patting her daughter’s cheek.
Leaning back, Rosanna shook her head. “I shan’t marry Mr. Tate to please you. No matter what you may think or expect, I shan’t do it.”
Eyes narrowing, Mama stood there for a long moment. “I see. You are too high-minded to marry soundly. No matter that Mr. Tate is so well situated with a healthy income and a property that isn’t entailed like ours. Never mind that with your marriage, you would be in a position to assist your sisters and provide some aid to your poor father and me, as well, until your little brother comes of age and can break the wretched entail. He is still but a lad, and it will be so very long before we are free to care for ourselves and Whitley Court as we wish.”
Rosanna cast a cautious glance about, but the rest of the party were too occupied to notice them. “You know better than that, Mama. I’ve heard Prudence lecture you and Papa about our finances, so you cannot feign ignorance. We can afford our current life, and if you would employ a bit of economy—”
“Are you truly so selfish?” said Mama, her voice a sharp whisper. “We have given you everything. We’ve allowed you freedoms we haven’t granted the other girls. Anything you desire, we purchase for you. And now you are quibbling when we ask this one thing of you. Would you repay our generosity with spite?”
“That is not it, Mama. And you know it!” Rosanna fought to keep her breathing steady. Her chest burned as she longed to lob verbal jabs at her mother, but it would do little good. It never did.
“If not for us, then do it for yourself,” said Mama, lifting her chin and meeting Rosanna’s gaze with an unshakeable stare. “Marriage is a misery, so you might as well be comfortable while suffering through it.”
“That is hardly a convincing argument, Mama. Why would I ever choose to marry under such terms?”
Mama jerked back, her hand flying to her décolletage as her brows shot upward. “What nonsense! How can you even suggest such a thing? Would you prefer to be a miserable spinster? Mocked and derided? Pitied and judged? Do not even jest about that, Rosanna! So help me, if you even consider it, you shall be cut off without a cent, and then will know just how miserable it is to live on another’s charity.”
Rosanna stilled, her lungs burning as she struggled for breath. “You would do such a thing?”
Straightening, Mama dropped her hand with a shake of her head. “Of course not, for you would never be so silly as to be so disrespectful to your father and me in such a manner. Choosing a husband can be overwhelming at times, and no doubt it has left you fractious and saying things you do not mean.”
Mama reached forward and snatched Rosanna’s hand in hers, her brows pulling together as her gaze pleaded with her daughter. “Stop dithering, my dear. Your time is running short, and you must secure Mr. Tate before you lose your bloom and are left with the dredges as your only matrimonial options.”
Turning on her heel, the lady strode away, and Rosanna stared after her. She’d known better than to attempt a sensible conversation about marriage. Mama was unmovable on the subject, and it always left Rosanna feeling wrung out like pantalettes on washing day. She drew in a deep breath and forced her shoulders to loosen.
Marriage was a misery. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t heard Mama dance around that subject before, but hearing it stated so baldly gave her pause.
As she stared out at the expanse of green before her, Rosanna’s brows pulled together. Was it true? The evidence around her certainly supported Mama’s assertion. So many marriages were an existence that husband and wife tolerated. But was it little wonder when so many approached the marriage altar focused solely on money or attraction?
Despite having been married a short time, Prudence and Parker were not merely rubbing along. They were like halves of a greater whole. Better together than they were apart. Rosanna rather wished she had stronger evidence than that, but her heart burned as she thought of it, and she couldn’t help but believe that something better than a cold marriage was possible.
She clung to that, focusing on that bright and shining hope as she brushed off her skirts and wandered towards the gathering.
Overbeck Hall was the finest estate in the area, dwarfing even Boxwood Manor. Though the latter’s grounds were finer (to Rosanna’s thinking, at least), the former’s engulfed the majority of the land surrounding the town, stretching around Greater Edgerton in green tendrils.
